the most wonderful time of the year
by auroracode
Summary: Snowball fights are hard to resist, even for teen mafiosos


For most of Chuuya's remembered life winter had not been a time of fun or happiness, rather it had always been a time of hardship and jealousy; winter brought the cold and for kids living on the street that could be a death sentence. When your very life depended on finding shelter and warm clothes, it was hard to find any joy in the season nor feel anything but envy for those who could go home to a warm house and didn't need to worry about anything beyond their holiday plans.

There had been plenty of years spent huddled in abandoned buildings with other street kids, a temporary unspoken truce built between them by the cold wind that broken windows did far too little to keep out; plenty of years gazing longingly at passerby's with their presents and through the shop windows at the colorful displays and delicious-looking food, knowing that none of that was anything that could be his.

He remembered one night that one of the older street rats, one who'd had the chance to experience a home and family before losing everything, had told the younger ones the story of the little match girl; he told how she'd imagined herself living the life she saw through windows, how she lit each of her matches in an attempt to keep warm, and how come time that her matches had all burned up she'd died in the freezing cold, only to be taken away by an angel to heaven. He had never really been sure why the guy had told the story, whether he'd been trying to offer some kind of weird reassurance that 'hey, if you freeze to death this winter, you'll go to a better place' or if he was trying to scare them, but it had made Chuuya wonder if one day some of them would meet that fate.

He'd never found out though, as by the next year he'd become part of The Sheep and things were easier; with a big group of kids they could send some to cause distractions while others stole stuff, and as a result, things like warm clothes and food were a certainty rather than something that relied on chance. More people also meant a base was possible as they had the numbers to defend it, they didn't have to worry about someone attacking and stealing their things, or at least not successfully doing, people had certainly tried.

Of course that hadn't meant everything was sunshine and rainbows, they had had no heating in the building they called home, relying on blankets and layers to keep them warm; they'd also had to be careful to avoid unnecessary wear and tear on their clothes, just because they could easily steal new clothes didn't mean it was wise to draw attention to themselves by doing it too often. There were never any presents either, if someone were to find something worth having they certainly weren't going to give it to someone else, something like that you hoarded for yourself.

Overall, winters spent with The Sheep were a definite step up from winters spent on the street but did nothing to make the season an enjoyable time.

At 16 though, and as a member of the Port Mafia, things were different; he had a nice warm apartment, even if it was one he had to share with Dazai; he had plenty of warm clothes and the means to buy more if he needed to; and for the first time in his life if he wanted to he could provide gifts for the people who were important to him. It was strange really, all of those were relatively simple things that most people took for granted, and yet just having them had changed the way winter felt.

The snow didn't seem grey and dreary, but rather bright and cheerful; the cold wasn't biting and cruel, but crisp and refreshing; the lights - his thoughts were cut off by the impact of a snowball on the back of his head, and he whirled around with a snarl to see Dazai already packing more snow together and looking far too pleased with himself.

"What the h*** bastard?" Chuuya growled in annoyance, holding back a shiver as wet slush slid down his neck and into his shirt, it felt disgusting and he was more than prepared to throttle Dazai as revenge for it. The teen in questioned laughed and pulled back his arm in preparation for letting another snowball fly,

"Chibi needs to work on his...OOF" Dazai's taunt was cut off as a snowball of Chuuya's own snowball hit him smack dab in the face, knocking him onto his butt and making Chuuya wish he had a camera with him.

"What was that Dazai?" He questioned, his grin bordering on feral and Dazai gave him a disgruntled look before grabbing a handful of snow and flinging it at Chuuya without even bothering to pack it together. Naturally, the loose flakes were easy to dodge, but the few seconds spent getting out of the way were enough for Dazai to stand up and duck behind a tree, where he began to scoop up snow to form a proper snowball.

The sight of it made Chuuya's grin widen, he'd only ever really been in one snowball fight, back when he'd still been part of the Sheep; some of the other kids had been having one when he and the other teens were coming back from a supply run and a stray snowball had hit Shirase in the ear, prompting him to start lecturing them about paying attention to their surroundings and how they needed to be more careful. That hadn't lasted long though before Yuan had gotten annoyed and slam dunked a pile of snow onto his head, which had resulted in the start of a free for all that only ended when they were all soaked and exhausted.

Of course, a good portion of them ended up getting sick and that had been a nightmare to deal with, but it had been fun and was a happy memory he didn't think he'd ever forget. It had also been a very therapeutic experience to just let loose and throw snow at people he was annoyed at; because despite what the rest of the Sheep had thought and what Dazai probably thought as well, he hadn't been totally unaware that he was being manipulated, and while he'd been fine letting it happen most of the time there were times he got ticked off at some of their pushiness.

Because of that several of his snowballs had ended up aimed towards some of the more frustrating Sheep members and by the time the fight was over he'd felt much better, he was hoping that this fight would turn out similar. Although Dazai had turned out to not be quite as bad as Chuuya had thought based off of first impressions, in fact, he could be fun company on occasion, he was still a frequently infuriating person and there were plenty of times when he wanted nothing more than to punch him hard in his smug face. Unfortunately, he couldn't do that because Dazai was such a beanpole of a teen that even someone without Chuuya's abnormal strength could probably snap him in half, which meant even when they sparred he had to hold back and be careful not to hurt him too badly. He didn't have to worry about that with a snowball fight though, so long as he didn't pack them with rocks or ice the worst Dazai would get was a nasty bruise.

Of course, things would be different if he could use his ability, a heavy enough snowball could probably break bones, but No Longer Human negated any chance of that; still, it was something to keep in mind for the future, it would be rather humiliating for enemies after all if they were defeated by a snowball.

The time Chuuya had spent ruminating was enough for Dazai to have finished his snowball plus a small pile of more and the teen found himself quickly having to jump behind his own tree to avoid being hit.

"You're being rather slow today Chuuya, is the snow too deep for someone your height to move around in?" Chuuya's eye twitched at the taunt but he forced himself to ignore it and focused on packing snow into a ball which was then aimed directly at the other teen's head. It missed, thanks to Dazai moving his head slightly at the last second, but the glare the near hit earned him made up for it.

The two of them carried on like that for a while, throwing both snowballs and insults at one another and just being the teens they were. It was fun, and enough of a distraction that Chuuya didn't register the sound of footsteps behind him, not until he'd dodged to the side to avoid getting hit and saw Dazai's eyes widen with horror at the same time he heard the sound of snow impacting against something.

Turning slightly to glance behind him, Chuuya froze at the sight of a bemused looking Mori carefully brushing snow off of his coat, as the last of the flakes melted under his touch he turned his gaze on the two, an unreadable expression in his gaze.

"Chuuya, Dazai." He greeted mildly and Chuuya felt his mouth dry up because they had just hit the boss of the Port Mafia with a snowball and they were probably going to be in so much trouble. Admittedly, of course, it was mostly Dazai's fault; he'd been the one to start the fight and he'd thrown the snowball that had hit Mori, but it also wouldn't have hit him in the first place if Chuuya hadn't dodged. Not to mention the two of them were executives and really should be setting a better example than playing around in the snow, it wouldn't be surprising if Mori was upset or disappointed in them.

Still, he was trying to come up with to say to defend the two of them, when suddenly Mori smiled and stepped to the side to reveal Elise standing behind him, a wide grin on her face. In the years to come, Chuuya would maintain that he had been too caught off guard by the fact that their boss had joined in the snowball fight, even if it was via proxy with his ability, to properly react; and he'd remind Dazai when he tried to claim otherwise that he too hadn't reacted in time, but the fact remained that both of them ended up on the ground with snow down their shirts.

What had previously been a one-on-one fight between Dazai and Chuuya quickly turned into a team-up between the two as they faced Elise's onslaught; despite what her cute appearance suggested, she was a vicious opponent. All the while Mori watched in amusement, never interfering except for a comment here and there.

"Elise, don't aim for the face."

"Chuuya, no matter how tempting it may be, don't try and shove Dazai's head into a snowdrift."

"Dazai, don't you dare throw that in this direction."

Of course, Mori had been a doctor long before becoming boss of the mafia and so the moment the two of them had started shivering they were forced inside and ordered to change into dry clothes before they caught a cold.

It was only later, sitting on the couch in his warm apartment with a mug of hot chocolate, that he realized what the unreadable expression he'd seen on Mori's face earlier was.

Fondness.


End file.
